“What’s it feel like?” asked Captain Macke.
“You’ve been getting into bad company, my lad,” said Major Mallery.
“Oah! Maan, maan! You must not do thatt!” said Mr. Chatterji.
“I’ve got some ration lime-juice here,” said Wavell, “but I really don’t advise it as a drink in this country. It’s useful stuff to have about when you can’t get vegetables of any sort—but I believe it thins your blood, gives you boils, and upsets your tummy. . . . Drop of rum or whisky in the evening . . . do you more good.”
Bertram’s heart warmed to the kindly friendliness of his voice and manner—the more because he felt that, like himself, this famous traveller and explorer was of a shy and diffident nature.
“Thanks. I’ll take your advice then,” he said, and reflected that what was good enough for Wavell was good enough for him, in view of the former’s unique experience of African and Asiatic travel. “I’ll try the rum and coco-nut milk if I may,” he added.
“Three loud cheers!” remarked Augustus. “Won’t mother be pleased! . . . I’m going to write a book about it, Greene, if you don’t mind. . . . ‘The Redemption of Lieutenant Greene’ or somethin’. . . . You know—how on the Eve of Battle, in a blinding flash of self-illuminating introspection, he saw his soul for the Thing it was, saw just where he stood—on the brink of an Abyss. . . . And repented in time. . . . Poignant. . . . Repented and drank rum. . . . Searching.”
“Probably Greene’s pulling our legs the whole time, my good ass,” put in Vereker. “Dare say he’s really a frightful drunkard. Riotous reveller and wallowing wassailer. . . . He’s got rather a wild eye. . . .”
Bertram laughed with the rest. It was impossible to take offence, for there was nothing in the slightest degree offensive about these pleasant, friendly people.
Berners joined the group and saluted the Major. “Ammunition and ration indents all present and correct, sir,” said he.